If A Sensible Person Went To Hogwarts
by Heercums-N-Oxymoron
Summary: Harry Potter never had any friends in Little Whinging. When a new girl at school defies Dudley's gang, life begins to change for the better.
1. Making A New Friend

Kate's first day at St Grogory's was going quite well until she noticed the boy sitting alone at the edge of the playground. None of the other children went near him; it seemed as if they were deliberately keeping a metre-wide circle around him at all times. She started to walk towards him but stopped when a girl grabbed her by the arm.

"You're not allowed to talk to him."

Kate blinked, confused. A small crowd of students had started to form around the other girl, deliberately averting their gazes and fiddling absentmindedly with their uniforms. "Why not?" Kate asked. The girl squirmed and one of the other children nudged her.

"Because...because Dudley Dursley said so!"

"Who's Dudley Dursley?"

"He's the Freak's cousin!" piped a younger boy. He pointed across to a startlingly large boy leaning up against the school building. A gaggle of lanky, unpleasant-looking boys were laughing uproariously at something he'd just said. Kate's eyes narrowed.

She turned on her heel, shoving through the crowd of protestors and striding purposely up to the boy nicknamed The Freak. He looked up at her as Kate approached; he was a skinny, dishevelled-looking boy in a shabby second-hand uniform. His dark brown hair stuck up in unevenly-cut lumps and his thick round glasses were held together in the middle with sticky tape.

"Hello!" Kate smiled and sat down on the bench beside him. He leaned around her, looking as the other children scattered, their expressions simultaneously horrified and mildly impressed. He sat back and gave Kate a concerned look. "You're not allowed to talk to me. Dudley won't like it." Kate shrugged, legs swinging gently. "I know but I don't really care. Would you like to be friends anyway?"

He gave a small smile and a curt nod. "My name's Kate. What's yours?"

"I'm Harry"

"That's a nice name"

Harry froze, his face paling, as a shadow fell across them. Kate looked up; Dudley Dursley glared down at her, his face quickly turning beetroot-red. He was flanked by a skinny, rat-faced boy, and two other overweight cronies.

"You're not allowed to talk to the Freak!" Dudley thrust a finger at Harry, practically spitting the insult. Harry flinched, glaring ferociously but saying nothing. Kate gritted her teeth and stood up, her arms crossed.

"Why not?"

"Because I said so alright?!"

"Yeah!" chorused Dudley's gang. Kate eyed them. She could probably take the skinny one but she'd need Harry's help to sort out Dudley and the others. Kicking, scratching, biting. _Especially_ biting. She knew to aim for the soft parts.

"You're not. Allowed. To. Talk. To. Him." Dudley was practically spitting, his face a dangerous shade of purple. Kate glared evenly at him, arms still crossed. "Make me."

Everyone froze. The other boys gaped at Dudley who snorted and spluttered, glaring furiously. He glanced around to see if there were any witnesses; one of the teachers on duty nearby had noticed them and was keeping an eye on the situation.

Dudley dropped his finger, turned on his heel, and stormed off. Harry, smiling broadly, watched the rest of the gang waddle after him and turned to Kate. "He won't forget this you know."

"Good" Kate sniffed, head held high, Everybody was determinedly not looking in their direction, backs turned. Well that was fine by her. "They'll come back you know" Harry said wearily, "When the teacher goes away, they'll be back and they'll do..something."

Kate thought for a minute, then grinned. "Come on! I know one place they'll never find us." Harry looked uncertain, but he followed her across the playground. They spent the rest of the break squirrelled away in the library, and continued their new tradition through lunch, certain in the knowledge that neither Dudley nor his gang would ever be caught dead in the place.


	2. A Lot Can Happen In Two Weeks

For the past month, Dudley Dursley had kept up a constant barrage of snide remarks and subtle violence whenever the teacher's back was turned. Harry and Kate did their best to avoid the Gang; they stuck to the library or kept within range of the duty supervisor during lunch breaks. They had been handling things reasonably well, until one day Harry failed to show up to school.

Kate was beginning to get worried. She had been waiting outside the classroom, eyeing the clock as it ticked closer to the first bell. Harry was never normally this late; the Dursleys may have been horrible, but you could set your watch by them.

A familiar plodding gate sent a small shiver up her spine. She turned; Dudley was striding down the corridor, his uniform straining to contain his swaying bulk. 'The Freak's not coming!' Dudley sang, grinning. Kate frowned. "Why not?"

"He's in the cupboard again" Dudley smile widened as he pushed past. Kate stepped forward, trying to block his path. "What do you mean he's in a cupboard?" Dudley shoved her aside and shrugged. "That's where he sleeps. Dad says that Freak's got to be punished, so this time he'll be staying in the cupboard for about-" he frowned, the strain evident on his face as he counted on his fingers. "A month."

Kate's jaw dropped. Harry had never mentioned where he slept before and she had never asked. She'd assumed. naively, that the Dursleys were just lukewarmly compassionate enough to allow Harry his own room. She'd been absolutely certain Dudley would never have put up with sharing his. She was also shocked that Dudley could count.

Kate spent the rest of the day mulling over her options. She could go to the principle about what Dudley had said, but that would mean that the Dursleys would be called and if no one believed her then they would get away with it and Harry would suffer more.

It would be her word against Dudley's. On the other hand, she couldn't just do nothing. If Dudley was telling the truth, Harry was in serious trouble. _Could I go to the house to see for myself?_ No, that would never work. She couldn't be sure she'd even get past the front door.

When she got home that afternoon, her mother was on her knees in the front garden, tugging some particularly stubborn weeds from amongst the grass. "I think Harry's in trouble." Her mother paused, looking up at her daughter as she wiped her brow. "Why do you think that?"

"Dudley Dursley said that his parents locked Harry in a cupboard. He said that he'll be in there for the next month." Her mother frowned. "I'm sure they haven't done that." "But what if they have?" Kate said, her hands curling into fists. "Why would Dudley lie to me about it? What can I do?"

Her mother got to her feet and wandered inside, into the kitchen. She sat down at the kitchen table and sighed. "Are you sure that's what Dudley said?" Kate nodded. "Yes, absolutely." Her mother nodded. "Alright. Well why don't we go down to the police station and let them know what Dudley said. If the Dursleys really have done that to Harry, they will sort it out".

Kate didn't hear back from PC Wilkins and Henley. She didn't know what to think. Dudley didn't come to school for two weeks, and the Gang had taken to whispering about her behind her back rather than face-to-face. It wasn't until a third Monday had come and gone that she heard leaden footsteps pounding towards her and a furious Dudley Dursley socked her in the face.

Kate went down in an instant, hands clutching her throbbing face. She squinted up at him, eyes blurry with pain and tears, and kicked him squarely in the crotch. Dudley turned puce and let out a low moan, dropping to the floor like a sack of potatoes. By this point the teacher had noticed the commotion and, with help, ferried the two off to the First Aid room.

It later transpired that PC Wilkins and Henley's visit to Number 4 Privet Drive had been a success. Mr and Mrs Dursley had reluctantly let them in and they had discovered Harry squirrelled away in a small cupboard underneath the stairs. They immediately took him into protective custody as well as Dudley, which explained why he had come storming into school in such a foul mood.

Despite all appearances, the officers decided that it was perfectly alright to reunite Dudley with his parents, Harry, on the other hand, was winging his way to a psychiatric and medical care facility in Norfolk, where he would be placed with a foster family that would actually treat him like a human being.

As punishment for the "vile and unprovoked assault on a fellow student", Kate was suspended. Her parents sat her down the following morning and carefully explained that, although they would have to stay in their new home until at least next Christmas, they would be putting her into a new, and hopefully less violent, public school.

They moved the following year when her father received a promotion from work. She never saw the Dursleys again.


	3. The Letter From Someone

Kate loved her new bedroom. From her perch on the window ledge she could see far across the rolling fields surrounding Bourton-On-The-Water. The attic wasn't large, but it had enough room for her bookcase; the shelves were filled to bursting and small piles of novels had begun to accumulate at the foot of her bed. Her second-hand dresser and wardrobe sat against the far wall atop a fake Persian rug.

Her bed was pushed up against the wall beneath the window. She turned back to it, grabbed the pair of binoculars resting on her pillow, and had just started to focus them on an interesting-looking bird when she heard her mother call for her to come downstairs.

Kate lowered the collapsible ladder, making a mental note to add 'rope pirate ladder' to her Christmas list, and scurried along the landing and down into the hall. "This lady would like to talk to you" said her mother, gesturing politely towards the stranger who was hovering by the front door. "She's from the local school board."

An explosion of salt and pepper curls billowing out from beneath a worn, patched hat surround the woman's round pink face. She smiled warmly down at Kate; she was a head shorter than Kate's mother and her frayed, slightly-dirty dress matched the antique clutch purse grasped in her hands.

"Pomona Sprout, how do you do?"

"Very well, thank you" Kate replied. Professor Sprout smiled at her again and followed Kate's mother into the living room. Kate sat on the lounge; Professor Sprout sat opposite, looking apologetic as she opened her purse and began rummaging around inside.

"I'm afraid my news might come as a bit of a shock" She said, passing Kate a parchment-coloured envelope as she spoke. Kate took it; the address was written in green ink and said:

Miss K. Richardson  
The Attic Bedroom  
6 Bakewell Drive  
Bourton-On-The-Water

 _Weirdly specific. Wait..how do they know where my bedroom is?_ Kate glanced back up at Professor Sprout, who was smiling encouragingly at her. She looked back down at the envelope, turning it over to reveal an old-fashioned wax seal. She broke the seal with her thumb and pulled out the letter.

"Dear Miss Richardson, we are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-is this a joke?" Kate said quickly, passing the letter to astonished mother. Professor Sprout shook her head. "It's absolutely serious" she said cheerfully, opening her purse once again and withdrawing her wand.

With a small flick of her wrist, she sent the coffee table leaping into the air, changing colour and transforming into a brown bat. Kate beamed, slapping her hands across her mouth as she emitted shrill shrieks of delight. "You will be starting school on the first of September. Now Hogwarts is a boarding school, so I'm afraid you will be away from your parents until school holidays."

"Are you sure our daughter's a witch?" Mrs Richardson interrupted, clutching the letter. Kate froze, suddenly terrified that there had been a mistake. She had never exhibited any signs of magic that she was aware of; _of course_ it had been a mistake! Her lip started to wobble and she felt teardrops prick the corners of her eyes.

Professor Sprout shook her head. "No, there is no mistake. When a child with magical powers is born in Britain, their name is entered into the Hogwarts registry for their eleventh year. When that year comes up, we send out special envoys-" She paused and pointed to herself, "-to deliver their letters to them and explain the situation. There has never been a mistake."

Kate felt slightly encouraged by this and blinked back the tears. Professor Sprout restored the coffee table to its original form and began to talk about school fees and uniform levees with Mrs Richardson. Kate grabbed the letter and read it all the way through. She fished the supply list out of the envelope and let out a muffled shriek, bouncing up and down furiously flapping her hands when she read 'broomstick'.

"I CAN HAVE A BROOMSTICK?!' She whipped around, tugging on her mother's arm. "I can't fly it because I'm only a first year but I CAN HAVE A BROOMSTICK!" She bounced up and down for the rest of Professor Sprout's visit, waving furiously as the woman wandered away down the street.

It was very hard to sleep that night. Kate had always believed that the world was bigger than people said. Now she had proof. She burrowed deeper into her blanket, gazing fondly up at the stars, and giggled, thinking about the interesting times ahead.


	4. Diagon Alley

Although Kate had only managed to drift off to sleep at one o'clock in the morning, she practically bounced out of the station as the group made their way down Charing Cross. Professor Sprout had met them at the platform; she was wearing a comfortable-looking patchwork of wool and cotton, underneath a long, battered coat. Her old hat was squashed firmly on her head, and she paused every now and then to catch her breath.

Kate _adored_ London. Her parents took her on sporadic trips to the British Museum whenever they could, and she had seen just about every historical tourist trap the city offered. The filthy, grimy underbelly of street hawkers and shadows lurking in alleyways, the tourists with their cameras, the locals shouting and laughing as they clambered down the street. Kate couldn't get enough of the place.

"Here we are, the Leaky Cauldron!"

At first glance it looked no different than any of the numerous down-at-the-heel traditional pubs. The mullioned window panes were foggy with age, and the rusty iron sign hanging above the front door squeaked in the breeze. But Mr and Mrs Richardson spent a full minute blinking owlishly at it, then gasped in surprise. Kate smiled; she was pleased that she'd been able to see it so easily.

When they entered they passed by a red-faced, elderly gentleman who was standing behind the bar. He nodded a greeting and went back to cleaning the glasses with an old cloth. The patrons were a mixed bunch; there was a group of little old ladies sitting around a table, and something swathed in black lurking in a dark corner which had large pointy ears. Kate skirted around a hooded individual who, judging by his elongated fingers and bone-white skin, she was absolutely convinced was a vampire.

"Hullo Quirrell, afraid we can't stop!" Professor Sprout waved cheerfully at a thin young man in a purple turban as they passed through the back door of the pub and out into a tiny courtyard. "Professor Quirrell will be taking over the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts this year. Hopefully he stays a bit longer than the others; I'm afraid we've had a pretty poor run of teachers leaving that department of late."

"Why's that?"

Professor Sprout pulled her wand from her pocket and shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know. Now stand back please and remember-" she gestured towards a small knot of bricks in the middle of the wall. "-these are the ones you want." She tapped them three times with her wand.

The bricks jostled and shifted, a hole forming in the middle of the knot. The hole widened until they were standing before a large archway with a cobbled street lined with shops beyond. Kate blinked, pinched the back of her hand discreetly to make sure she wasn't asleep, and took a step forward.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley!" Noise assaulted her from all direction; owls hooted from store fronts and voices raised and lowered in pitch as they walked along. There were bushels of herbs drying on racks, large piles of cauldrons with signs in front of them, and people walking about everywhere in robes. Her parents nearly slammed into the back of her when they passed Flourish and Blotts; when they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies, her father had to practically carry her to get her to away from it.

"Yes you will be learning to fly a broomstick at school but I'm afraid first years must borrow theirs from the Hogwarts supply" explained Professor Sprout, as they reached the end of the street. Looming over them was an imposing, slightly lop-sided building with _Gringotts_ emblazoned across it in large golden letters. They climbed the white marble steps, and Kate read the inscription on the frosted glass door.

"What does it mean by 'finding more than treasure there'?"

"Well," said Professor Sprout, pushing the door open, "According to local gossip, the lower vaults of the bank are guarded by dragons." Kate nodded; that made a lot of sense. Dragons were notorious for protecting treasure; what better security system for a magical bank than a twenty-foot fire-breathing menace? She hoped they were feeding them well.

There were goblins everywhere. Parts of them looked quite similar to the pictures Kate had seen in books of fairy tales, but for the most part they were beady-eyed and short, with clever faces and sharp pointed smiles. They joined a short queue and were served by a female goblin, Lockfang, who exchanged the wad of cash the Richardsons had brought for a bag of unusual coins.

"Where shall we go first hmm?" asked Professor Sprout. Kate looked over her mother's arm as she consulted the supply list the school had sent. "Why don't we get everything in order?" said her father. "Alright then" said Professor Sprout. She gestured across the street; a brightly-lit shop with dressmakers dummies in the window beckoned them forward.

The dummies were fitted with robes and cloaks of various designs, and had been enchanted to move around whenever someone approached. A squat woman in mauve looked up as the bell above the door jingled, and cheerfully bustled over. "Hogwarts dear?" Kate nodded, and the lady ushered her towards the back of the shop.

The fitting room was a half-moon of mirrors, foot stools and pin cushions. Kate stepped up onto a stool and the witch pulled a long black robe over her head and began to pin it into the right length. A shiver of excitement ran through her. This was _really happening!_ Magic, real magic, was real and happening to her! WOO!

They paid for the robes and headed towards Flourish and Blotts. Kate strolled confidently through the shop, playing find-the-book until they had the complete collection. She added a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ to her pile and almost got away with sneaking in _Moste Potent Potions_ before Professor Sprout noticed and gently but firmly persuaded her parents not to buy it. Apparently it was "too advanced" for her just yet.

"Are there any books about the history of the magical world?" Kate asked, when they approached the counter to pay. The attendant got up from his seat and came back with a copy of _Modern Magical History_ , which they bought as well.

Pleased, Kate scampered happily down the street, drinking in the sights and peering longingly at the broomsticks which were hung outside _Quality Quidditch Supplies_. "Am I really not allowed my own broomstick yet?" she wheedled. Professor Sprout shook her head apologetically and steered her towards a shabby store with one wand sitting alone in the window.

The shop was silent and looked like the inside of an enormous archive. Row upon row of wooden boxes sat in neat little piles on sets of wooden shelves. There was a single chair tucked away behind the door for customers to perch on, and there didn't seem to be any staff around.

"Good afternoon"

Everybody jumped except for Professor Sprout. The elderly gentleman had appeared out of nowhere; he was wearing plain robes of rich velvet, and his wispy white hair stuck up from his head in several directions.

"Got a first year here for her wand Mr Ollivander" Professor Sprout beamed, proudly. Ollivander crooked a finger and Kate stepped forward. He pulled a long measuring tape with silver markings from within a pocket and hesitated expectantly. "Which is your wand arm?" Kate, thinking, held out her right arm, and Ollivander started taking measurements.

He drifted off towards the shelves, muttering to himself, as the measuring tape continued on without him. "That will do" he said, returning from his walk. The measuring tape dropped to the floor and he presented a box to Kate. "Try this please; a lovely ash with unicorn hair; Nine and a half inches. Just give it a wave."

Kate did as she was told but after half a minute Ollivander took the wand back off her. "No, no, that will not do I'm afraid. Wait here please." He wandered back down the aisles and came back with another box. Kate tried another wand, then another, and another; she was beginning to get worried, thinking that she was never going to find a wand that was suitable. She couldn't go to Hogwarts without a wand!

Ollivander scurried back from the bowels of the shop, holding yet another box. "Spruce with unicorn hair. Ten and three fourths; quite bendy. Impressive, in the right hands. We shall see won't we, hmm?" He handed over the wand and stepped back. Kate swallowed her growing doubts, gripped the handle lightly, and flicked.

Bubbles erupted from the tip of the wand, accompanied by a shower of sparkling glitters. She squealed with delight, jumping up and down as her parents gasped and Professor Sprout started applauding. "Well done! Yes, well done indeed!" Kate reluctantly handed the wand back and Ollivander packed it away gently in its box. As her parents paid, Kate peppered Ollivander with questions about wand care and the different types of wands available.

After Ollivander bowed them out of his shop, Kate pulled the wand from its case, looked it over, and slipped it into her pocket. It stuck out a little, so she pulled her jacket closer to her to hide it. "Is it possible to do magic without a wand?" she queried. Professor Sprout nodded. "Yes, it is possible, however it is extremely difficult to do so. Hogwarts teaches its student to perform _wordless_ magic, but only after your third year."

They ambled along to _Eeylops Owl Emporium_ just as a dark-haired boy walked out clutching a snowy owl in a cage. Kate froze, blinking, her jaw dropping.

" _HARRY?!_ "

She sprinted forward and flung herself around Harry, who only just managed to put the cage down in time. He hugged her back, beaming.

"YOU'RE-A-WIZARD-HOW-ARE-YOU-WHERE-ARE-YOUR-GLASSESS?"

She stepped back a little but kept a hand on either shoulder. Harry was fatter-looking than he had been, his long, lanky frame thicker, less anaemic. His scruffy hair had been professionally cut and his clothes were a little worn but looked relatively new. He wasn't wearing his glasses but he didn't seem to be having any trouble seeing.

"Yeah" Harry grinned, and looked over his shoulder at a couple who had just appeared behind him. "Mum and Dad paid for eye surgery. I don't need glasses anymore." Kate leaned around him and gave the couple a once-over. The man was blonde, curly-haired and of average height. He was wearing a red sweater and holding a fistful of shopping bags.

His wife was tall and elegantly-dressed, with thin black hair cut into a bob. She beamed nervously, blushing, at Kate. Kate squinted, pursed her lips, and nodded. "I approve." The couple relaxed with small sighs of relief. Harry grinned.

"Adam Jones" Harry's foster father shook Kate's hand, smiling. "And this is Maggie, my wife."

"Hello" She shook Kate's hand as well. "Are they treating you well?" Harry nodded. "I've got my own room now. They're alright." Adam chuckled and ruffled Harry's hair.

A shadow passed over them and Kate looked up into an enormous, ruddy face.

" 'Allo there!"

"Hagrid! Wonderful to see you" exclaimed Professor Sprout. "Helping young Harry buy his supplies, I see" Hagrid drew himself up proudly, beaming. "Dumbledore asked me himself. Great man, that Dumbledore. An' what are you buyin' today eh?" Hagrid asked, turning back to Kate. "I bought Harry his birthday present" he gestured at the owl by Harry's feet, "Owls are helpful fer carryin' messages and the like. Smart creatures, owls."

Kate bent down; the owl blinked at her austerely, and cocked its head to the side. "Hello! My name's Kate." Harry knelt down beside her and stuck a finger between the bars of the cage. The owl shuffled forward and pushed its beak against it, chittering quietly. "What are you going to call it?" Harry shrugged. "I've no idea. She's a girl, by the way."

"Come along children, onwards and upwards!" Professor Sprout stepped aside as the children entered the shop. The smell of urine and dropping filled the musty air, and Kate was slightly overwhelmed by the amount of eyes staring back at her from along the walls.

Kate wandered slowly around the room. Owls, cats and toads of every size and colour stood beside hissing snakes and several giant tortoises with bright, bejewelled shells. Kate cooed over a tiny baby tortoise with small aquamarine crystals set into its back, but reluctantly decided against it.

"No you don't!" She jumped, startled, as a small black lump came hurtling across the floor and scuttled, hissing, up her leg. The harried-looking witch who had rushed out from behind the counter began to splutter profuse apologies but Kate was barely listening.

The small black kitten hissed at the approaching woman, its mismatched eyes filled with hatred. Kate reached down and carefully peeled it off her trouser leg. It mewled pitifully at her and scraped a rough tongue against the tip of her nose. "I'm going to call you Smudge."

They paid for the kitten and spent the train ride home together, swapping stories and addresses along the way. Harry invited her up to his house in Gloucester, and Kate promised to do so as soon as possible. Their respective familiars were getting on like a house on fire; Smudge, mewling and prodding, had stared with great curiosity at Harry's owl. The owl had hooted back at him, amused and interested by the small fluffy ball. Eventually Smudge clambered up onto the top of the cage and they both drifted off to sleep.


	5. The Last Days of Summer

Harry's bedroom was not what Kate had been expecting at all. The walls were painted a garish shade of purple that Harry had chosen as a joke, not believing that his new parents would really get _whatever_ colour he picked. 'It's not that bad!' he sniffed, as Kate fell about laughing.

Harry's owl had her own roosting box at the bottom of the garden but she preferred to sleep at the end of Harry's bed. The neighbours had given them a lot of funny looks when they'd first brought her home, and Mrs Slatter, the elderly woman next door, had checked to make sure they had an exotic pet license. Thankfully no one had called the local council with any complaints.

The owl and Smudge had become fast friends. Smudge was still a little on the small side for a kitten, but his straggly black fur had become sleek and fluffy, and his brown and green eyes gleamed. His favourite place to sit was wrapped around Kate's shoulders, his head burrowed comfortingly into the hollow of her neck.

Harry and Kate were sitting in the middle of the floor, flipping through their school textbooks. Kate showed Harry a page in _Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them_.

'What about "Plimpy"?'

Harry looked at it, snorted, and shook his head. 'I am _not_ naming her after a fish.' The owl perched on Harry's shoulder peered down at the creature on the page, puffed up her chest and screeched with outrage. They carried on for a few more minutes until Harry paused, thoughtfully.

'How about Hedwig?'

He propped _A History of Magic_ up so Kate could see the page; a short biography had been printed next to a picture of a regal-looking, stern Germanic witch. 'What do you think?' asked Kate, taking the book from Harry and showing it to the owl. She studied it for a minute then hooted, pleased, and affectionately nibbled Harry's hand. He grinned, stroking her lightly. 'I think that's a yes!'

The rest of the day was spent cycling round the outskirts of Upton St Leonards, slipping quickly along hidden forest trails until at last they came to Sud Brook. It was a hot day so they took off their shoes and sat on the shore, their feet dangling in the water. Kate glanced over at Harry and frowned. 'Are you okay?'

Harry looked a little nervous, as if he wanted to talk about something but didn't quite know how to begin.

Kate smiled sympathetically. 'I…read about what happened to your parents.' Harry looked up sharply, startled. 'It was in _Modern Magical History_. 'I couldn't believe it.' Harry sighed, nodding. 'Hagrid told me what happened. I couldn't believe it either.'

'It sounds like you're famous.'

'I don't want to be. Especially not for…'

'Yeah.'


	6. September First

September first dawned hot, with a clear cloudless blue sky. Harry had slept over at Kate's house the night before and both children awoke to the smell of frying bacon and freshly-squeezed orange juice. There was a mad dash to gather up all their unpacked bits and bobs, but eventually their trunks were packed and they were on their way towards London.

Harry's parents met them at the station and there was a lot of gushing about how grown up the children looked. Maggie, and Kate's mother Felicity, whipped out their cameras and took the traditional first-day-of-term photographs; Kate and Harry standing side by side, beaming, their backs against iron fenceposts with a 'Kings Cross Station' sign looming ponderously overhead.

Professor Sprout had given them directions to Platform Nine and Three Quarters but Kate still felt a wriggle of uncertainty in her gut as she squared up the pillar with her trolley. 'Do you want me to go first?' Harry offered, but Kate shook her head and steeled herself. In a few moments she was stumbling forward alongside a bright red steam train, great gouts of blue-grey smoke billowing from its black funnel.

'Now remember, don't spend it all at once' said Felicity, handing Kate a small coin purse. She hugged and kissed her parents goodbye; Smudge wound himself around their legs, purring loudly and rubbing his head against their ankles. Kate picked him up and tucked him into the front of her jumper as her father hauled her trunk up onto the train. She clambered onboard, Harry following, and they waved goodbye one final time as their parents disappeared into the smoke.

They hauled their trunks into the first empty compartment they could find and were just settling in when the door opened and a plump boy shuffled nervously into view. He put one foot inside the compartment before he noticed the two; letting out a small startled squeak, he jumped backwards and tumbled over his trunk.

'Are you alright?' Harry exclaimed, rushing over and helping the boy up off the floor. He nodded, blushing furiously, and massaged an ankle ruthfully. 'You can sit with us, we don't bite' Kate smiled. She heaved the boy's trunk under the seat beside hers and he sat down. 'I'm Kate, this is Harry' the boy froze suddenly as Smudge unwound himself from Hedwig's cage and wandered over. 'And this is Smudge. He's very friendly.'

The boy hadn't unclasped his right hand through the entire conversation and as he pressed it protectively to his chest Kate realised that he was clutching a large toad. 'Smudge, come here' she pulled her cat back onto her lap, then slowly brought him up level with the amphibian's beady brown eyes. 'It's alright' she said soothingly, as the other boy turned pale, 'Smudge won't hurt your toad. He just wants to sniff him to figure out what he is, that's all. Then he'll leave him alone, I promise.' Smudge sniffed the toad's rubbery nose, then wriggled out of Kate's grip and wandered back over to Hedwig.

'I'm-I'm Neville Longbottom' said the boy, as the colour returned to his face. He relaxed a bit and brought the toad down onto his lap, where it sat in a sour-looking lump on his knees. 'This is Trevor. Great-uncle Algie bought him for me, for getting into Hogwarts.' Trevor leapt onto the chair opposite, and let out a loud, wet croak.

The train gave a sudden start, the children lurching in their seats. Neville dashed over to the window, tripping over Harry's feet, and waved furiously out at an elderly, stern-looking woman in a neat green dress.

' _Does that-her hat-is she wearing a dead vulture?!'_

Neville blushed scarlet.

'That's my grandmother.'

'AWESOME!'

* * *

The journey was pleasant enough, Neville slowly opening up the more the other children chatted and peppered him with questions about the wizarding world. 'My family thought I might have been a Squib,' he explained, 'Uncle Algie was always trying to force some magic out of me by giving me little shocks. He pushed me off Blackpool Pier once. I nearly drowned.'

'That's a bit more than 'a shock' ' Kate said, aghast.

Neville shrugged. 'Gran rescued me so it was alright. The last time he tried, he was dangling me out of our upstairs window when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a slice of meringue and he accidently let go. I bounced, all the way down the garden and into the road. Everybody was so pleased; Gran was crying, she was so happy.'

'I'm sorry to interrupt you-' said Kate, interrupting, '-but surely there are better ways of figuring out if you're magical than having a relative suddenly try to murder you.' Neville shook his head.

'Isn't there some sort of test?'

'No. They would have made me take it, if there was.'

'Hmm, yeah. My grandmother, too.' That had been a shock. Kate's grandmother had come around to congratulate her on getting into boarding school. The word 'Hogwarts' had worked its way quite quickly into the conversation; she'd sat bolt upright, then a beaming smile had slid across her face.

'Apparently my great grandmother was a witch, but her only daughter, my grandmother, is a Squib. They raised her as a Muggle so she wouldn't feel too left out but now I'm here, bringing everything back around again. She was really pleased.'

'My parents were magical too' Harry piped up. 'But they..died. I've got a new Mum and Dad now though.' He flattened his fringe self-consciously. 'I think my family were all wizards and witches, but it doesn't really matter.'

 _Crrroooaaakkk!_

Kate nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked down at her feet; on the floor, directly opposite her left ankle, sat Trevor, glaring daggers at Smudge as the cat backed him into the doorframe. They had opened the door to let in a cross breeze and he had obviously been trying to escape but Smudge had him gently pinned down with a paw. He looked like the world's angriest mud pie.

'I don't think he's very happy' Harry mused, as Neville strode over and pulled Trevor away from Smudge. Neville nodded sadly. 'He's always trying to run off' he admitted. Kate patted his arm consolingly. 'Why don't you let him go?' asked Harry. Neville shrugged. 'He was a gift. He-he's my friend..'

'You'll make new friends' said Harry gently. He gestured between the three of them. 'You've made two already.'

* * *

Hours passed. The lunch trolley came and went, and soon the sun was setting in the afternoon sky and it began to grow dark. Organised fields gave way to wild, twisting woodland; Kate, who had been wearing her robes since the train pulled out of the station, waited patiently outside the compartment while the boys put on theirs.

Trevor had made three more unsuccessful escape attempts and was now locked securely in the bottom of Hedwig's cage. The owl sat imperiously on Harry's shoulder, occasionally hooting and nibbling his ear. Smudge was curled up, purring, in Neville's lap; he opened an eye every now and then, before going back to sleep.

The train appeared to be slowing down, and sure enough a booming voice echoed through the carriage. 'We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.'

Kate leapt to her feet, stuffing the remaining sweets from lunch into a pocket and scooping Smudge up onto her shoulders. Neville retrieved Trevor from Hedwig's cage as Harry put the owl back, and the boys trailed shakily after Kate as she stepped out into the crowded carriageway.

Kate looked back; Neville looked green and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. Harry was paler than usual; Kate reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. 'Come on, we'll be fine' she smiled, and Harry smiled weakly back.

She was a little nervous but the excitement was winning. She bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet until she saw a break in the crowd of students ahead of her and, grabbing Neville and Harry by the wrist, she dashed forward, out the carriage door and out into the cold, night air.

They had arrived.


	7. First Impressions

Kate huddled in one of the lines forming behind Hagrid, stamping her feet against the evening chill. The first years followed the lumbering caretaker down a twisting forest path to the edge of the lake. A flotilla of boats bobbed gently beside a wooden pier.

Kate clambered eagerly aboard, helping Neville as his foot caught on the lip of the boat and he nearly tumbled in. Trevor plopped from his grasp with onto the shore with a furious croak; Neville quickly scooped him up, hesitated, and then gently put the toad back down. 'Goodbye Trevor' murmured Neville tearfully; the toad let out on last long croak and hopped away into the dark.

Neville sniffed and rubbed his eyes with a sleeve as the boat lurched forward under them, pulling forward, away from the dock. Kate reached an arm around his shoulder and gave him a tight squeeze. 'That was very brave' she whispered gently. Neville nodded and gave a watery smile.

As the boats turned a bend and the rest of the lake unravelled before them, Kate gasped. The castle looming above them on the furthest shore was breathtaking; butter-yellow light shone brightly from various windows, like a thousand friendly eyes watching over the students slowly approaching the shore.

Kate had never seen such a beautiful sight. She sat in awestruck silence next to Neville, who kept muttering 'Wow!'. They were so distracted that, as the boats entered a cave embedded in the shoreline, a low-hanging clump of ivy smacked them in the face. 'Oh, eew!' Kate bunched her sleeves up and began rubbing her face. Neville coughed and spluttered, and nearly fell backwards off his seat.

The boats creaked to a halt, everyone disembarking slowly and following Hagrid back up to the surface along a tunnel carved through the rock. A smooth stone staircase led up to a large wooden door, which swung open to reveal a tall, black-haired woman in beautiful emerald robes.

'The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,' said Hagrid.

'Thankyou, Hagrid. I will take them from here,' Professor McGonagall pulled the door wide and herded the students across a stone courtyard lit by flaming torches. Kate jiggled happily; she had visited many castles on holidays with her parents, but never at night. It felt like she had stepped back in time.

There was a loud stream of conversation filtering through a doorway to their right as the students entered a hall, but Professor McGonagall strode past it and into a little room just off to the side.

Everybody piled in, forming a nervous semi-circle around her as she stood upright, hands clasped in front of her. Kate swallowed; she was sure Professor McGonagall was a lovely person, but the stern expression on her face was a little off-putting. Neville quivered slightly beside her; she slipped her hand into his and gave him a reassuring smile.

'Welcome to Hogwarts,' said Professor McGonagall, in a pleasant Scottish lilt, 'The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common-room.'

 _Huh, sounds a little like prison. Are we allowed to visit other dorms? What about exploring the school grounds?_

'The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.'

 _Yep, one of them's standing right here._

'While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour.'

Kate imagined for a moment being handed a shiny gold cup like the ones they had handed out for excellence at her old school. She had never been a particularly note-worthy student academically or athletically, but she was sure she could earn a handful of points at least. Maybe she'd get lucky and her house would win.

'The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school.' Neville visibly flinched; Kate turned to him and patted his elbow soothingly. 'You'll be fine' she whispered. Neville, pale and sweating, shook his head slightly.

'I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.' Professor McGonagall's eyes brushed over the crowd, lingering on certain people. Kate stood up firmly, acutely aware of her polished black boots and her long straight hair pulled back into a neat plait.

Professor McGonagall left the chamber. The crowd parted before Kate as Harry stepped through, looking nervous.

'I thought-I thought we were going to be sorted in private!' squeaked Neville.

'What _is_ the Sorting Ceremony?' asked Harry. 'They make us wear the Sorting Hat' Neville wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his robes, 'And the hat decides which house we're in.'

'Does it light up or something?' Kate tilted her head quizzically. Neville shook his head.

'No, it's…um..it can talk'

Kate let out a short, sharp burst of laughter, her mouth turning up into a wide smile. 'A talking hat, of course! That makes perfect sense.'

This sounded a little _Faraway Tree_ ; Kate was beginning to wonder just how much Enid Blyton had known about the magical world. Or any of her favourite authors, for that matter. 'The Sorting Ceremony should be a piece of cake then! Why are you so worried?'

'It-it matters which house you're in. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are where all the clever people go. Nobody likes Slytherin. And Hufflepuff is where the rest go, the ones that..that aren't good enough for the other houses.' Neville hung his head, cheeks flushed with shame. 'I-I'm probably going to be in Hufflepuff.'

'Nonsense! You're good enough for any of them!' Kate gave Neville a slight shake. 'Besides, a school house is nothing. It only counts on sports day, and even then-'

Several small screams erupted on the other side of the room as a group of translucent figures came gliding through the wall. Kate's jaw dropped. '…Ghosts' she said, in a small voice. Harry nodded slowly. 'That's..that's a ghost.' Kate pointed a finger shakily. Harry nodded slowly again.

'-gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not even really a ghost- I say, what are you al doing here?'

A Shakespeare-esque ghost in an old-fashioned ruff had finally noticed the children milling around. A jolly-looking friar with a massive pot belly hovering beside him smiled at the crowd. 'New students! About to be sorted, I suppose? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know.'

'Move along now' Kate nearly jumped out her skin as Professor McGonagall's voice rang out. 'The Sorting Ceremony's about to start.' Children dove out of the way as the ghosts drifted away through the far wall, Professor McGonagall stepping forward into the room.

'Now, form a line, and follow me.' Kate hurried after Harry as the crowd stepped through the carved wooden doors into the Great Hall. She spared the room a quick glance, staring enraptured up at the enchanted roof and the clear night sky it was projecting.

'Look, floating candles!' whispered Harry.

'Harry, I love you dearly but _**bugger the floating candles, those were ghosts!**_ '

The line came to a stop, everybody bunching in a small semi-circle around a raised bit of floor. A wooden stool sat in the middle of the platform; sitting on that was a large lump of tattered, creased leather which was slumped upright in a loose triangular shape.

'..that's a hat?' said Kate incredulously. She shook herself and turned back to Harry. 'Those were ghosts! Honest to God, _actual, real_ ghosts! I mean-'

Neville tapped her on the arm; she looked at him then followed his gaze, looking back to the battered Sorting Hat. A wide hole split open in the front of it and it began to sing.

'Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see,'

'It's very good, isn't it?' Kate muttered. Harry nodded.

Neville leant in. 'Apparently it sits in Dumbledore's office all year, thinking up a new school song.'

'It must get awfully bored' said Harry.

Kate snorted, imagining a horde of ghosts crowded around the hat, one holding a dictionary while the others argued about syntax. The Sorting Hat, a pair of pince-nez spectacles perched on a folded crease, dictated from its perch on a shelf in a non-descript office.

The Sorting Hat finished its song and Kate applauded, looking properly around the room. It was beautiful, polished oak beams supporting a high vaulted ceiling, white marbled floor tiles gleaming in the flickering candlelight. The teachers were sitting behind a long trestle-like table directly ahead of them; a Merlin-looking man in the most stereotypical wizard's robes Kate had ever seen was smiling with grandfatherly affection down at the rest of the school.

Professor McGonagall produced a scroll from within her robes and held up the Sorting Hat in her other hand. 'When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,' she said, clearing her throat and holding the scroll up slightly higher. 'Abbot, Hannah..'

Kate jiggled impatiently as name after name rang out. 'Jones, Harry!' Kate squeezed Harry's shoulder and nudged him gently forward. 'Good luck' she whispered. Harry nodded, face pale. He walked shakily up to the platform and sat on the stool, the hat coming down and covering his eyes.

Neville gripped Kate's arm and they watched breathlessly for a few minutes until the Sorting Hat stirred. The tear that served as its mouth opened up and it bellowed loudly for all to hear.

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

Kate squealed and jumped up and down, clapping as Harry walked off to a cheering table on the far righthand side. After the noise died down, Professor McGonagall continued working her way through the list. Soon it was Neville's turn, Kate giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. She winced as he stumbled over his own feet halfway to the stool, but he made it and jammed the hat down onto his head.

'GRYFFINDOR!'

Neville took off sprinting, the hat still on his head, peels of laughter ringing throughout the hall. Kate shoved past the other children and quickly intercepted him, plucking the hat from his head and handing it to another boy who had wandered forward for his turn. 'Congratulations!' she said. Neville blushed crimson, grinning from ear to ear.

It seemed an age until Professor McGonagall finally called out 'Richardson, Kate'. She squared her shoulders, took a shaky, excited breath, and walked over to the stool. Her stomach clenched excitedly as the hat slipped over her eyes.

'Hmm, reasonably clever' Kate jumped, startled, a voice suddenly muttering right next to her ear. 'Easily distracted…loyal…hard-working..'

 _Is that the hat?_

'Yes, I'm the hat.'

 _YOU CAN HEAR MY THOUGHTS?!_

'Please don't shout but yes, I can'

 _Seems invasive_

Kate sensed the hat shrug. 'Godric Gryffindor believed that it would make an excellent impartial sorting system.'

Kate's eyes narrowed. Before she could dispute the wisdom of the ancients, she felt the hat shift slightly on her head and a muffled voice boomed out across the Great Hall.

'SLYTHERIN!'

 _Aaaaww_

Kate's shoulders slumped slightly, a part of her welling up with mild disappointment. She had been hoping to end up in the same house as either Harry or Neville, but it had not occurred to her that the trio might be split up separately between three.

There was a low hissing noise to her right; two identical older boys, red-haired twins, were standing up at the table along the far wall, hands cupped in front of their mouths, hissing and booing loudly. She poked her tongue defiantly back at them and strode over to join her new housemates.

'Shuffle up' an older boy with reddish blonde hair nudged his friend, both moving to make room. Kate smiled and slipped into the space.

'Thank you'

'Andy' the boy held out a hand; Kate shook it.

'Kate'

The last of the students dispersed to their new houses and the chatter died down as the white-haired man- clearly Headmaster Albus Dumbledore- stood up. He spread his arms wide in welcome, beaming out at the hall.

'Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!' A flicker of colour caught the corner of Kate's eye. She turned and gasped; the polished golden plates were heaving with food, piled high with all sorts of meat, vegetables, and sauces.

'Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!' Kate clapped as Dumbledore sat down, and turned back around to face the food.

'Father says Dumbledore's gone mad' a voice piped up. Kate glanced down the table; a blonde boy was sneering up at the headmaster like he could smell something unpleasant. 'I like him, I think he's funny' said Kate. The boy rolled his eyes with a snort. 'He's an old loon.'

'Professor Dumbledore is … eccentric'

A blank-eyed, gaunt ghost bound in chains suddenly materialised from beneath the table. He was solid to a point; staring at him was like looking at an illuminated statue made from frosted glass.

Kate tried not to stare at the silvery blood staining the front of his robes. Puncture wounds were visible if she squinted at the right angle; a cluster of deep holes in his chest just above his heart, partially hidden by the fold of his clothes. The blonde boy suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable.

' 'Sup Baron, how'you doin'?' asked the burly second-year sitting on Andy's left, around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

The Baron inclined his head towards them. 'I have been well, Master Bunder' Kate bit down hard on a drumstick, stifling a laugh. Andy noticed, smiled, and gave her a friendly nudge in the ribs.

'Do you normally come to the school feast?' asked a brown-haired girl. The baron nodded.

'We enjoy them very much' he said, gesturing. Kate looked over her shoulder; the crowd of ghosts from before had split up and were wafting above the other houses.

'It must be pretty quiet here when there's no students' Kate said. The Baron shrugged. 'It is somewhat less crowded. The portraits are good company, as a re my fellow ghosts, however I much prefer the castle ringing with the sound of academia.'

'And Quidditch' grinned Andy. A small smile flickered across the Baron's face. 'Indeed. No doubt we shall continue, our triumphant winning streak for another year.'

'What's Quidditch?' asked the brown-haired girl, just before Kate. Bunder nudged his friend. 'Andy, you're up.' Andy, a Beater on the house team, launched into a detailed explanation of the rules and history of the game as dinner made way for dessert.

As the evening began to wind down, everyone started introducing themselves. 'Malfoy, Draco Malfoy' the blonde boy smiled smugly as he spoke, as if his name should automatically mean something. He was flanked by two small trolls disguised as first years; Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle sneered and loomed with an air of malicious stupidity.

Pansy Parkinson was deep in conversation with Blaize Zambini and Millicent Bulstrode. Tracey Davis, sitting opposite Kate, got into a heated discussion with John Bunder about whether or not maths should be on the school curriculum.

'There's no calculators here. The batteries don't work for some stupid reason.' Andy stabbed at his ice-cream with a spoon. 'Hufflepuff has a black market for stationery; they can get you pens, pencils, white-out, whatever you like.'

'Is it difficult to write with a quill?' asked Kate.

Andy shrugged. 'Not so much, but it's a bitch to write essays with. You've got to be careful or you'll smudge the ink. Gets all over your hands.'

'What about computers?' asked Tracey. There was a snapping sound and the girls swivelled towards the noise; a fourth-year boy was white-knuckling a chocolate wand in one fist and staring blankly ahead. A classmate eased his face gently into the crook of her shoulder; the boy let out a traumatised whimper, clinging to her collar.

Tracey stared at Kate, who shrugged. Andy swallowed the last of his ice-cream. 'No computers, or Internet. You'll be writing assignments out by hand.'

' _By hand?!_ ' exclaimed Tracey.

'But what about research?' Kate asked.

'There're plenty of books in the library, if you like that sort of thing' sniffed Bunder. He stretched and yawned. 'I usually just copy what Andy's done.'

'Yeah' scowled Andy, 'You're going to have to do your own work at some point you know'

'Never!'

Eventually the plates were cleared and everyone settled down again as Dumbledore rose to his feet. 'Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you.'

'First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.'

'Aww what?!' Kate gaped, open-mouthed. 'That's unfair! That stinks.'

'Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madame Hooch.' Kate jiggled excitedly and made a mental note.

'And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.'

'Bloody hell' breathed Andy, raising an eyebrow. There was a smattering of laughter ripple through the hall but it broke very quickly. 'Why have they booby-trapped the third floor?' asked Kate.

'Dunno' replied Bunder.

'And now,' continued Dumbledore, 'before we go to bed-'

Andy and Bunder buried their heads in their hands with loud groans. Some of the older students scrambled slowly to their feet; Malfoy and his little clique stayed seated, haughtily staring pointedly into their laps and goblets.

'-let us sing the school song!' Dumbledore raised his wand; a golden ribbon flew out, twisting to shape words.

' _No, no, no_ ' Andy whispered repeatedly, banging his head gently against the edge of the table. Kate and Tracy leaned forward, patting him gently on either shoulder.

'Everyone pick their favourite tune, and off we go!'

Kate sat and listened to one of the most discordant music recitals she had ever heard in her life. There was no uniform beat to it, no common rhythm; everyone stopped and started, voices not so much singing as screaming or bellowing the words. Eventually, the 'song' eventually finished and Kate blinked, clapping.

She shuffled out of the hall with the rest of Slytherin house, waving good night first at Harry and then Neville as they passed each other. A tall girl, Slytherin Head Girl badge pinned to her chest, cleared her throat and gestured emphatically. 'First years, to the front with me please!' Kate jogged wearily forward; Millicent Bulstrode shoved her back a step behind her with her elbow, and Kate frowned, rubbing her arm ruefully.

If it had been cold outside, it was freezing down in the dungeons. They descended a set of thick stone steps on one side of the great hall, followed a twisting path along several corridors, and came to a halt beside a blank stone wall. Kate tried to breath some life back into her hands and not let her teeth chatter too loudly.

'Ah-hem. Maledictus'

Kate gasped around a yawn as the wall slid sideways. A welcoming wave of warm air rolled out as she stepped forward. Everything had been roughly carved from the castle's bedrock; the décor was all dark lacquered wood and overstuffed leather armchairs, and several stained-glass hanging lamps and enormous, carved fireplaces illuminated the long, low room.

Enormous windows looked out into darkness. Kate frowned; it didn't look like sky outside and they were too low to the ground not to see stars. The first years were ushered into the middle of the room, the head girl stepping out in front.

'Good evening everyone, welcome to Slytherin. Now, I know this house has a bit of a … _difficult_ reputation, but I can assure you that we are just as nice as the rest of the school. Please check the noticeboard-' she gestured towards a large corkboard covered in fliers which was hanging next to the entrance, '-to find out what the day's password is. It changes weekly, so stay on top of it!'

'Breakfast will be served at eight o'clock sharp, with classes starting at nine. You will be receiving your term schedules from Professor Snape tomorrow, so don't worry about it too much. Also, please ask for directions if you get lost; it's a big castle, and you're new, so please don't feel embarrassed about not knowing how to get to class.'

'Boys, your dormitories are down there-' she pointed to an archway set towards the back of the room, to left side, beside one of the windows. '- and girls, yours are over there. The windows look out into the lake, so don't be alarmed if a mermaid or two swim up and say hello. They can't speak through the glass but they'll wave and if you want to hold a conversation with them, they do know sign language.'

That will be all for now, so good luck with everything, and welcome to Slytherin!'

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Technically Kate is a Halfblood, not a Muggleborn. Her grandmother was a Squib, so although her father's a Muggle, her mother still had the potential to be a witch.


End file.
